I'll Go It Alone
by MyMagentaPeach
Summary: Kurt, alone, lonely and haunted by past abuse has developed a concrete dislike for trust, can an equally lonely stranger become something to him that might change all that? Warning: claustrophobia and panic attacks


**I'll Go It Alone**

* * *

Prologue

* * *

It is not that he does not want to meet someone ... someone who can be special to him in all those wonderful and all-consuming ways. It is not that at all.

But when he wakes up on a Saturday morning, nowhere to be and suddenly time on his hands, too much time to press away the thoughts, ignored so successfully stumbling out of bed during the week, his head spins until his brain hurts so much he stumbles up and out of bed just to close the blinds and just ... fall right back down into the sheets.

He does not even have energy then to consider that there might be a boy, a couple streets over, who might feel the same way.

There is.

As Blaine buries back into the sheets Kurt is just blinking open his eyes, only to press them shut again and turn away from the windows. He had not thought to close the blinds last night. During the week he is up and about before it gets this light outside. Saturdays lately tend to be all the same: A groan, a huff and a trip to the bathroom then closing the blinds, not shut completely, Kurt is too claustrophobic for that, well has been anyway since the bully who favoured him for torture in middle school had found his favourite tool of oppression in locking Kurt, anyhow small for his age in lockers and closets, shoving and shoving, telling Kurt "This is where you belong anyway, Faggot."

Some days it is worse than others. Today, Kurt can feel his breath quickening already as he falls back onto his sheets, pushing himself back onto his feet a second later, angry tears stinging in his eyes, soon pushed and driven by exhaustion as he pulls the blinds half open again, opens the window too. Darkness used to have a calming softness to it, no more.

As he settles back in between the sheets and breaths even out again as he still wipes at his tears he can hear the quiet cut over and over by the sound of cars driving around town. Kurt is so looking forward to tomorrow, Sunday morning, when the town will be completely quiet for a few blissful hours, only birds chirping from the buildings' yards filling the air, before the quiet will be once again torn by the excessive ringing of church bells.

It is that next morning, when the birds' song is all that fills the air, that Kurt, disappearing into the big, comfy confines of the too big hoodie he has thrown on, takes to the streets, foggy and wet and deserted in the best of ways, except for the leaves dancing down from the trees, adding colour to the wetness and wind, tangible warmth at the sight.

He is about two miles away from his house when the clouds break. Kurt has run half a mile back already, is drenched from head to toe, when he bumps into someone. "Sorry," he brings out through teeth chattering.

"No problem," Kurt hears the soft but also chattering with cold voice.

He looks up after a moment more of collecting his breath, to find a boy his age, black curls soaking up the water quickly, as the boy's umbrella is positioned now to protect Kurt from the weather more than the boy himself. "You don't have to ... ."

"I know," is all the boy answers. Then, "Do you live around here? Can I walk you home?"

Kurt reflexes kick in and he is shaking his head already before he can think anything much at all. "No, thank you, I'll be fine."

The other boy looks hurt for a second then simply nods, "Okay. Have a nice day."

"Yeah," so much as a _You too!_ gets stuck in Kurt's throat as he turns and leaves the stranger behind on the curb they just stumbled into each other on. He might be desperate for a little warmth in his life, and his mom might have been gone for a long time now, not there to warn him about these things, but Kurt still knows better than to trust just any stranger he bumps into.

And, yes, it might be a problem ... in a way ... that to Kurt everyone feels like a stranger these days, even he himself.

* * *

A/N: I don't own Glee, and all that. Also, I hope yo liked this first glimpse into this story.


End file.
